Fire And Ice Poem by Ernie Lowe

Lungs black with days of fighting this Hell's Gate fire
weeks of fighting three others without a break.
Worked my way down the wrong ravine here
right into a new breakout ahead.
Lying face down in a pool in a stream
lifting my head breathing smoke in quick gulps.

Damnit, I survived that time I fell through the ice
on Silver Lake
Colder than this fire is hot,


Water's warming up from the firestorm up above...
deer, squirrels, racoons are joining me.

Dad could see me through the ice, tried to chop a hole through the ice.

Drown or run? No more room for me here.
Water's starting to steam.
I crawl out of the pool, just start running blind with the smoke.
not knowing which way to run,
not knowing where to stand still
running with my boots on fire, my hair on fire,
my clothes burning to ash,
screaming the songs of dead birds,
howling the songs of dead coyotes,
running.

Dad shouted out "Jamies gone under. Come help! "
A dozen ice fishers came running.
Dad said start jumping, all together now. Save my son.

They jumped high, boots hitting in rhythm, broke through
and passed me up out of the lake.

Dad pumped the water out of me, gave me the kiss of life.

Lying down in the cinders now, feeling no more pain, just the cool water of Silver Lake.